Sorrow.

She was old and her hands are gnarled now.

Her mind is blank and she has nothing to say.

She looks down most times and seldom does she think.

The old woman must be once pretty,

For her features are good.


She waits always at the same place,

Waiting for a morrow that never dawns.

Why so/For her light has gone out.

Her son, her son, he had gone before her.


Jayamala.

This Day For Me.

This day was very lonely and not so very peaceful for me.I went for Sunday meditation.But when I think without this superficial feeling I find this day like all the days to come.Colorless and with no qualities.When I color it with my superficial self this day is as I said not very peaceful or happy.But when I detach myself and see around like that floating cloud or the breeze passing by, the days are just there.I am beginning to understand this fact of existence.So I just am here.

Jayamala.

A Gateway Called Life.

I am finding more and more silence in me.It is so especially when I start thinking of Rajesh.It has been raining here and the climate resembles Ooty.Chilly floors.I do not wear sweaters though.Some how I could read Mary Higgins Clark's mystery novels and finish them.I also could read Mitch Albom's books(For One More Day,The Five People You Meet In Heaven, and Tuesdays With Morrie.) too.I found one more day to my liking as I saw myself as that mother.

I am being a recluse not wanting to go out and mingle with people. My walking sojourns have stopped, though I want to start then again for health reasons at least.Is there a gateway in this life.Just now I was reading Osho's opinion as today is Guru Poornima day and "Star Of Mysore' had published it.He just says that do get up and live this life.

I think perhaps life itself is a gateway to pass through.Purpose?I agree there with Osho.No purpose.Walking through life itself is the purpose.

Jayamala.